


Don't You Care?

by Semi_problematic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:42:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14368188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: "So... what do ya say, Rick? I kill your boy, because red head, widows husband, fat chick, and snobby white boy wasn't enough to teach you idiots a lesson.""Neg-""No." Negan swung the bat and slammed it into the ground. "No!" He repeated. "I've given you second chances. I've warned you! Hell, I've killed and you still don't care! I'm done trying, Rick." He turned around and raised two fingers, curling them. "Come here, kid. You're coming home with me. Your friends don't love you enough to be good and keep you alive." Negan shrugged, tilting his head to the side. "That must really suck."





	Don't You Care?

Negans men walked in and out of houses, packing things up and carrying them out to the trucks they brought. Most of the people in Alexandria were in the street, on their knees in front of Negan. The burn of their kneecaps reminded a few of the first night Negan came. The yelling. The blood. The screams. It was a sickening deja vu. A kind that made their blood run cold and their bodies tense up. All they could think about was how someone was going to die. 

Negan stood in front of Rick, sighing. Rick was on his knees along with the rest of his people. All of them stared up at Negan with wide eyes full of fear. "Rick... your kid killed two of my men. He wanted to kill me." Negan pointed the end of his bat at Carl. "I didn't hurt him. I brought him home all safe and sound and I fed him... but now... considering how rude everyone has been..." He shook his head. "I think that you guys don't deserve Carl. He broke in and was more respectful than you guys were." 

Rick was shaking. His knees dug into the ground and his hands were gripping his thighs. He was struggling to stand. "You've already killed the ones that were rude." He tried to argue. "You didn't choose to kill Rosita-" 

"But." Negan smiled. "Someone died in her place. To prove a point. To prove-" He raised his voice. "That I am not messing around! Rick! Your people cost two lives today, don't make me make it a three." He turned and looked at Carl, who was curled up in his seat, clinging to the chair. "So... what do ya say, Rick? I kill your boy, because red head, widows husband, fat chick, and snobby white boy wasn't enough to teach you idiots a lesson." 

"Neg-" 

"No." Negan swung the bat and slammed it into the ground. "No!" He repeated. "I've given you second chances. I've warned you! Hell, I've killed and you still don't care! I'm done trying, Rick." He turned around and raised two fingers, curling them. "Come here, kid. You're coming home with me. Your friends don't love you enough to be good and keep you alive." Negan shrugged, tilting his head to the side. "That must really suck." 

Slowly, Carl stood up and walked down the steps of the front porch. His face was emotionless but his eye was clouded with fear. He pushed past Negans men, looking down at his feet. He flinched when Negan grabbed his arm and yanked him to the ground. Negan was kneeling in front of Rick, fingers curled around Carls arm, gripping it, tight. Carl was on the ground, his chest only an inch or two above the asphalt. One of his hands was in a pool of blood, his other hand on top of his dad's knee. 

"Look at him, Rick.." Negan shook his head. "Hes so scared. He just wants his daddy to save him, but you can't do that, can you, Rick? You're just gonna let your little boy get murdered because you are too stubborn to actually give up and realize that I will always win." He pointed at his own chest. "I will always be in charge. The old way is over, Rick. It's my way now." He let go of Carl and stood up. "Get on your feet, kid." 

Carl stood up, brushing his hands off across his jeans. He looked down at his father, who was crying, but silently. Tears slipped down Ricks face but not once did he sob or scream. He just watched. "Dad.." Carl whispered. "Dad, come on..." He reached out to touch him but Negan grabbed his wrist. 

"Go with Simon and get in the first car.." Negan pushed Carl past him, tilting Ricks head up with the end of Lucille. "There will be no more second chances, Rick. I'm killing your boy and hopefully, that'll help all of you dumb asses to realize how serious I really am." He dropped the bat, swinging it up so it was resting against his shoulders. "Any last words you want him to hear? How much you love him? How sorry you are that your stubbornness and stupidity is getting him killed?" 

Rick was staring at him. The fear in his eyes was replaced with anger. He pushed up on his knees, sitting up straighter. Carl would be safer there. Negan wouldn't kill him. If he wanted to he would have killed him earlier when Carl broke in. Negan can keep him safe. Negans system is fucked up and bad but it will keep Carl safe. It's better to have him protected by an enemy than killed by one. "Do it." 

Carl froze. Simon continued to walk but all Carl could do was stand there. Negan wanted him dead. His father agreed to it. No one really did care about him. He turned around and started walking towards Rick. "Dad." His voice was breaking. "Dad, come on... dad..." Fathers were supposed to fight for their sons. Why wasn't Rick fighting? "Dad." He tried to push past Negan. "I'm sorry I broke in, I'm sorry you're mad but dad..." A tear slipped down his cheek. "Hes gonna kill me." 

Negan shook his head, wrapping an arm around Carl, pulling him away. "Load it up, boys! We're going home." He looked down at Carl, smirking. "And we got an extra special package tonight." He shoved Carl in front of him, yanking the car door open. "Go on. I don't bite..." Carl climbed into the car, pressing himself against the seat. "Unless you ask me to." He winked. 

Carl shivered, jumping when the engine started. He was going to die. His dad didn't fight to keep him. Negan didn't care. He wasn't really impressed with how tough Carl was. It was all a lie to make sure Carl didn't fight back. A lie to make sure Negan didn't have to bash his skull in until the time was right. Carl pushed his knees up towards his chest, digging around in his pockets. 

"Get comfortable." Negan chuckled. "It's gonna be a long ride. Saw a herd passing through earlier. We might get caught in it." Negan held Lucille between his legs, leaning back against his chair. He rolled the window down and smiled. "You guys can stand up now." He teased. "Just wait until I'm gone the next time. Okay?" The people were silent. Tears were drying on their cheeks as they fell back against their heels and finally relaxed. 

Carl flicked his knife open, looking down at the edges that caught the sun. The knife glimmered in the sunlight, reflecting onto Carls cheek. "Shut up." He whispered, dragging the tip of the knife across his skin, not enough to cut, but enough to leave light pink streaks across his skin. "They don't care." They don't care about me, Carl thought, I was just bait. They don't care. 

"Grouchy." Negan slapped the top of the dashboard. "Let's get going. I want to get home before sunset. The biters get worse at night and the little serial killer in the back doesn't seem to be in the mood to kill... zombies that is." He turned the rearview mirror so that he could see Carl in the back. He looked at him, chuckling. "I can think of a few people he does want to kill, though." 

Carl slammed the knife into the back of Negans seat, cutting through the cloth. He yanked the knife out and hunched over himself, cutting at random strings that hung loosely out of his jeans. 

Negan began to talk again but Carl didn't listen. "I'll let that one temper tantrum slide, you've had a hard day, but any more fits and I'll make sure to show you whos in charge." 

Carl rolled his eye, twisting the knife in his hands. He traced the edge of the blade, looking out the window. Slowly, Carl dug the blade into his skin, slightly hissing when the skin broke and blood began to slip out. Carl looked down at his hand, smearing the blood across his hand with the blade. He did it again, cutting it deeper, more blood pooling out into his palm. Again, Carl slid the knife over his skin, cutting. 

The sting got stronger with each cut, his gasps becoming louder. Soon, Carl had to hold his breath as he did it, closing his eye in pain. Small cuts always hurt more, but pain was better than sadness. Carl continued to stay ducked behind the chair, his hands in his lap as he cut at them. He didn't want Negan seeing it. He didn't want anyone seeing it. Carl swallowed, looking out the window as he wiped the blood away with his shirt. One of his hands was stained a light pink color, twenty cuts covering his hand. Carl dropped the knife onto the floorboard, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. 

No one wants him. No one cares. Carl was alone and soon, he would die alone. 

\- 

One night passed. Negan forced Carl to sleep in one of the rooms across the hall from his. It wasn't fancy. A painting on each wall. A bed with blankets and pillows. A table or two and a bookcase. The door had a lock, that was Carls favorite part of the room. As soon as Simon lead him to it Carl went in and locked himself inside, curling up in the bed and just laying there. He didn't sleep much, just tossed and turned, tried to name all the stars and count to a thousand without losing his place. 

The night lasted too long. Carl was still awake when the sunrise began, pinks and oranges dancing across the sky, painting different patterns and waves. Carl had fallen asleep a few times, only to wake up from nightmares. They weren't really nightmares, though. Just his father telling Negan to take Carl, to kill him and how Negan would kill him. Would Negan set him on fire? Would Negan bash his skull in? Would Negan shoot him? Feed him to walkers? The gruesome images filled his mind and refused to leave. Carl felt trapped, like he was dying over and over. With each image Carl could feel the pain. The blood. The fear.

"You up?" Negans voice called from the hallway. "I got breakfast." He tapped on the door before grabbing the door knob and jiggling it. "Good idea to lock your door. Keeps out all the weirdos I got living here." His voice sounded cheerful, much more happy than it sounded last night. "But it also keeps me out." 

Carl sighed and climbed out of bed, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. He walked to the door and unlocked it, opening it up. "Not everything is a personal attack on you." Carl closed the door once Negan stepped inside, locking it once more. "The world doesn't revolve around you." 

"Smartass." Negan set down a tray of food and sat down in one of the wooden chairs that looked far too old to still be standing. "You didn't eat dinner last night, you need breakfast." He picked up a piece of bacon and started to eat it, looking out the window. He wasn't looking at the sunrise like Carl was. Instead he was looking at all the walkers that were chained outside of the Sanctuary. 

Carl sat down across from him, reaching out and picking up a biscuit. He started to pull it apart, popping small pieces into his mouth. "Why are you so worried?" He snapped, glancing at him. "Thought you were gonna kill me to prove a point." 

"Carl." Negan sighed. "You're smart, come on. You know I didn't mean that shit. But I am keeping you here. It's not safe there. Your people aren't willing to fight. I saw that yesterday. They're willing to start the fight but not to finish it. They won't get dirty and mean." He stopped chewing and looked at Carl. "If you guys got attacked you would lose. You're safer here. With me." He swallowed and grabbed another piece of bacon. "So, now that that's settled-"

Carl reached out and grabbed Negans piece of bacon, taking a bite. He dropped it back on Negans plate and looked out at the sunset. "Do you ever notice how different sunsets and sunrises are?" He didn't give Negan time to reply. "My mom always told me when people die that God gives them one night and one morning to paint the sunset themselves-" 

"What happened to your hand?" Negan leaned over the table and grabbed Carls wrist, pulling it towards him. Cuts. A bunch of them. They all were scabbed over, but underneath the fresh cuts were small scars mirroring the same size. "Did you do this to yourself?" 

Carl yanked his wrist away, sighing. "Thought you were gonna kill me... thought I was all alone... thought no one cared." He hid his hand with his sleeve, chewing on his lip. "I don't like... I don't like when other people hurt me. When I hurt me I'm in control. I'm doing it." He sunk down in his seat. "I was gonna kill myself before you killed me. Save you the trouble." 

Negan stared at him for a few seconds. Carl could swear he saw Negans heart break. "Kid..." He was talking softly, like each nice thing be says is a secret. "Look... I wasn't gonna kill you, I just needed an excuse to bring you back here." He stood up and walked around the table to Carl, tilting his head up. "You're gonna be my right hand man, kid. You're real important to me.." 

Carl grabbed Negans hand and lifted it up so it was cupping his cheek. He closed his eye and pressed into his touch. "My dad wanted me to leave..." He breathed out. "He didn't care that I was leaving... that you were going to kill me.." He looked up at Negan and sighed. "None of them cared."

"All the more proof that you're better off here. We need you, Carl, we want you." He kissed the top of Carls head and brushed the hair out of his face. "Your dad may not want you..." He tilted Carls head up again and kissed him, gently. "But your daddy does."


End file.
